


I loved and I lost you( And it hurts like hell)

by LadyOfNorth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 17:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfNorth/pseuds/LadyOfNorth
Summary: Rediscovering a love after a long time can range from a simple event to something that moves your mind deeply. Jon found Sansa Stark again, but that didn't happen in a pleasant way. Feeling on the skin how life was so fragile made it as if he could cry.





	I loved and I lost you( And it hurts like hell)

It would be the first and last time he would do that. Her stomach was already churning with anxiety and a certain dread of what she would see a few hundred paces, some elevator buttons, and a door. He had been driving all day alone down the street on his motorcycle, trying to distract his mind and convince himself that he could do it alone. Recognizing how life was so fragile made it as if he could cry. Fifteen minutes ago he had called Sam, asking him to pick him up at a snack bar nearby at about half past ten because he knew he would not be able to return home alone after what he would witness.

  
Imagining Sansa in a vegetative state was surely something he wished he never had to cross his mind. They no longer had a relationship, that was true. He had been a sucker with the girl who had once been his, and would punch his own face if he could go back in time. But while Jon acknowledged his mistakes, he also recognized his fondness for Sansa, and how much this visit was necessary for both of them.

  
The news of Sansa's condition had been recent to him, even if it had lasted for a few months. When she got the call from Sam, also close to the girl, she thought he was making a very bad joke. But when the truth of the news fell to him, his knees buckled. He felt numb, helpless, weak, his mind completely empty. Her heart had weighed in a way that seemed to be ripping out without any hesitation. He could not imagine this active, cheerful, smiling girl trapped in a room without talking, without moving, without wanting to express anything.

  
Sansa's accident had occurred two months ago. She was on her motorbike, returning from a trip she had made to her grandparents' house when she was hit by a drunk driver who was driving a car the wrong way. The impact had been so violent that Sansa's body had been through the front windshield of the car and her body had come to rest in the backseat. Already the driver had suffered only a few abrasions. Sansa had suffered a severe sequel to her brain that left her in what doctors diagnosed as a continuous vegetative state. And so it has been so far, completing three months.

  
Jon had finally had the courage a week ago to call Sansa's house and hear his ex-mother-in-law's familiar voice on the line. What followed was twenty minutes of conversation about the girl's condition, memories of the past, and tears from her mother. He felt the lump in his throat and his teary eyes, but couldn't release all that anguish. He had to be strong, he felt that Sansa's mother had to be safe in order to have access to the girl.

  
How long had he not seen Sansa? The last time had been by accident when they bumped into the college secretary. He had just picked up his transfer papers, and she was flying, clinging to her books and distracted by the music in her headphones. The girl just stared at him for a brief moment and shook her head, hurried down the corridor that led to the buildings. Jon, by contrast, stood frozen in front of the secretary's door, watching the girl walk away until he was out of sight.

  
Before leaving his apartment, he had watched the bookcase, where he kept all his CDs and vinyls. In particular, she had noticed a Johnny Cash vinyl she had earned from her when they had a year of dating. That vinyl brought him so many happy memories, he could almost clearly hear Sansa's voice singing the chorus of You Are My Sunshine as she stared at him in love. The girl dancing and whirling around in her kitchen as she made breakfast dressed in just some Metallica T-shirt he'd left thrown around the apartment. The way she smiled and it made a small dimple form on the left side of her cheek. The charm of her crooked teeth, which she hated so much. His voluminous hair, which he loved to caress and smell sweet. Her hot skin meeting his. His infectious laugh. Her breathing was calm and steady as she slept on his chest.

  
Now there he was, entering the hospital building where the girl was hospitalized.

He ran into the receptionist and, trying his hardest not to express his lousy mood, merely identified himself and told the reason for his visit.

  
"Sansa Stark," he said quickly, handing his papers over to the woman behind the counter.

  
“Fourth floor, Jon. 483.” She answered him after registering, and handed him a visitor's badge along with the return of his documents.

  
Jon just nodded his head in silent thanks to the woman. He turned to the turnstile that led to the elevators and approached the badge, freeing access to the corridor. Her stomach heaved with anxiety, her heart began to pound, her hands were sweating. Inside the elevator, each floor felt like an eternity to him as he swung his leg frantically unconsciously, as if his body tried to relieve all that tension in some way. The fourth floor is finally announced. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly, and goes off to the path he would follow.

As he walked down the hall, Jon had begun to hear a musical noise in the distance. It was delicate, almost angelic. The farther down the hall, the more the sound seemed to approach. Jon had come to pay more attention when he vaguely acknowledged. It was a music box. He had noticed that room 483 was approaching along with the sound.

When he arrived in front of the door, he concluded that the sound really came from there. Now closer, he could recognize the musical notes that made up You Are My Sunshine. It hit him like a thud, and the lump in his throat closed painfully. The room had the door ajar, and it was possible for Jon to see a part of her arm propped against the window armchair. He rested his hand on the doorjamb, moving a little closer so that he could see better.

  
“ She likes to look out the window.”

  
Jon was startled by the whispered female voice near him. When he turned around, he came across a short, gray-haired black woman with a hair in a bun and fully dressed in white. She held a wooden clipboard in her hands.

  
“ How do you know that? “ He asked scornfully.

  
"She just doesn't seem to express herself." She turned her gaze to the clipboard, and studied it for a few seconds. "Jon Snow, right?"

  
"Yes." He looked down at the badge so he could read the ID. "Nurse Brienne."

  
"As annoying as it gets, don't stop the music box," the nurse advised. "And if it does, wind it up again."

  
“ It's her favorite song. “He replied, feeling a lump in his throat. “I will not go.”

  
"Good luck." The nurse indicated his permission to enter the room, and he did so.

Jon walked into the bright white room, watching the surroundings. The room was large but sparsely furnished. Just a big, neatly made bed at the moment, a black armchair where Sansa was, another armchair right next to that bed, a television set on a wall-mounted stand, and a door that would probably lead to a bathroom. In addition, only a small closet in the corner of the room added to the simple furniture, along with a wooden stool next to the armchair where the girl was.

After observing the room around him, he took a few uncertain steps toward the armchair where Sansa was, stopping a few inches from the back of the furniture. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if trying to muster the strength to face his girl in such a catatonic state. He took a few more steps to direct his body around the chair and face the girl, still not looking at her. He noticed a small table, placed in front of the armchair, where rested the music box that played incessantly that melody that filled the room. Jon watched the box for a few seconds before gathering the courage to face the body in front of him.

The thick hair, lost the definition of the curls he knew so well, continued to stand out, even dry and shaggy. Only by the thinness of his arms could he recognize how much she had lost weight, and it certainly did not happen in a healthy way. The hospital's own white nightgown, worn as clothing, made Jon's heart tighten a little more. Some scars spread across the exposed skin, probably a consequence of the accident. She didn't move, but it sounded like a bad joke to think she could.  
He crouched in front of the body that rested in the armchair and looked at the woman in front of him tenderly. Her chest, as it tightened, warmed to see her again after so long.

"Hi,"he whispered and pulled back a smile.

  
The girl drew no reaction. His eyes remained locked on the music box in front of the window. The same blue eyes that once crossed his bright one and today were opaque and dead. Jon sighed, breaking his initial attempt to smile, and settled himself on the stool beside the chair. He looked at the girl's left hand, its skin so dry it was starting to gray and crack, and risked approaching his own hand to touch it. The temperature shock was imminent: she, cold; he feverish.

  
However, the shock to Jon was not only of temperatures, but also of memories. It was as if a movie with everything they had ever had together flashed in his head. From the beginning, with an exchange of glances in the college corridors, to the end. The end when the girl threw in the towel, tired of the stressful situations, and he broke her heart. All those memories seemed so old. To think she was his everything.

  
"That was your favorite song," he said, looking at the box. "I remember well." You always had a wonderful musical taste.

  
Jon's eyes turned to the girl, analyzing her face. Her eyelids were wide open and blinking, as if she had really been aware. Deep dark circles surrounded his dull eyes. His mouth was colorless and dry, unlike what he was so used to seeing. He sighed, feeling his eyes burn with the tears that wanted to come out, but held back.

  
"Remember when we talked all night?" He laughed nasal, squeezing her hand slightly ." Time was not easy with us, is not it?”

  
In his own mind he made his questions. How can that love die? Perhaps most obvious was the fortress he built around his heart, which even with all of Sansa's onslaught could not be demolished. Jon only realized how much he loved her when she was gone.

  
The music from the music box slowed down until it dissipated. Jon promptly, remembering the nurse's request, turned his hands and attention to the music box. He gave as much wind as possible and the music played again. He put one of Sansa's hands between both of his, trying to pass his heat to her.

  
“ This music box must be very special. You always liked Johnny Cash, i remember. I still keep those CDs you gave me, i never threw them away. ”He grinned, looking into his apathetic face with the hope that some answer would be given to him.“ I never totally took you out of my life, actually…”

  
Jon had so much to say, but he couldn't help feeling like he was camouflaged. Obviously it wasn't Sansa's fault, it never was. However, he would never say how he was feeling, she might not care even if she was aware, and that would not help anyway. What if feelings didn't make sense to her? He decided to contain himself only.

  
He felt the weight in his heart multiply by the minute there. The feeling of helplessness was more than he could bear. Jon even wished he could switch places with Sansa and let her live a normal life, even if he was the one in that prison state inside his own body.

  
"I talked to your mother these days, and she told me I could visit you." I didn't bring flowers or anything, because you never liked it."he laughed nasally - Remember? "Flower you give your bees, I like food” he remained smiling for a while, before realizing that she would not laugh back. Then his smile faded. "I've missed you all this time."

  
Jon stroked Sansa's hand with his thumb, circling the icy skin, and stood watching the girl's features, which only blinked at her eyes. He sighed, mentally cursing the man who had done this to her, and cursing the way he had come unharmed. Jon knew it was bad to wish others wrong, but he couldn't control himself by the minute that reality punched his face with Sansa's condition.

  
“Jon? “ He heard a female voice call, when he turned, came across Nurse Brienne "It's time to go, the visiting hours are over."

  
Instantly he squeezed Sansa's hand more firmly, a reflection of his body refusing to leave his beloved's side. But he knew he couldn't stay there forever. The phone in his pocket buzzed, and he knew it was Sam telling him that he had come to pick him up, further warning that he should get out.

  
“I need to go.” he whispered to the girl.” But it was good to see you again ... I would not want to say goodbye.” he paused his speech, which was beginning to get drunk due to the crying that fought to come out.” But it's over ten, and I need to get my ride.”

  
Jon, still holding Sansa's hand, he raised from his place to stand in front of the girl's body. With his free hand, he caressed her expressionless face, lowering his body until it was the time the girl's gaze was directed. He stared into those dull, lifeless eyes, in contrast to those that wanted to overflow their emotions in unceasing tears.

  
“ I will always love you, my sunshine. But i loved and i lost you. And it hurts like hell.” He closed his eyes briefly, allowing a lone tear to run down his cheek.

He brought his lips close to Sansa's forehead, giving the region a long kiss and allowing more tears to fall from his eyes. He pulled his face away to look at hers and caress his every stroke with his fingertips. He took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to get out of it, but it seemed that she drew him like a natural magnet, in a magnetization he couldn't escape.

"Jon," the nurse called him again.

  
He nodded, wiping the tears from his face and finally letting go of Sansa's hand.

He walked to the door without looking back, knowing that if he did, that would be his undoing. He heard the nurse closing the door behind him and, before leaving, decided to clear up a doubt that was eroding his mind.

  
“Why did you ask me not to stop the music box?” He asked curiously.

  
“Her mother believes this will make her wake up one day. We in the medical service did not give hope that this will happen, but they are demands, we just fulfill ”.

  
It was as if something had punched his stomach with all his might. He just nodded to say goodbye and walked to the elevator. The rest of the way to the diner where he would find Sam was a blank space in his memory. He was deep in a vacuum of thoughts, as if he had been anesthetized after leaving the room. The world around him went completely unnoticed, as if there were only him and the emptiness.

  
*********

  
Sam spotted Jon approaching like a zombie, his face pale and dejected, then walked quickly toward his friend to support him. He put both hands on Jon's shoulders as he approached and shook him lightly.

  
“ Jon. Jon. Say something.” Sam was trying to communicate, but Jon wasn't well enough for that.

  
Jon just nodded at Sam, indicating that he would not like to speak at that moment. Sam sighed and understood, making his way back to the car and being followed by his friend. The way to Jon's building was quiet in conversation. Only the radio playing low and the noise of traffic filled the room. Jon didn't take his eyes off the window, but heed nothing in the way. Her brain was trapped in Sansa's memories of everything that had happened between them, so far in the bedroom. He felt the anguish in his chest hurt to choke him.

Sam parked the car just in front of the building where Jon lived. He sighed and put his hand on his shoulder in comfort.

  
“ You'll be fine?” Sam asked worried.

  
“ Not today. “He answered truthfully.” But I need to be alone. Really.”

  
“ All right. Good luck, man. Anything just call me. “He patted Jon on the back for comfort.

  
“Thanks. “ was what Jon managed to say after giving a weak smile.

  
He headed for the entrance of his building and walked to the elevator with his head bowed. Reaching her apartment, she closed the door behind her and leaned against her for a brief while, taking a deep breath to try not to collapse completely yet. He could feel that burning in his eyes and the lump in his throat tightening, but he didn't want to allow himself to cry. Not yet.

Jon walked to his bookshelf and then took the gift from Sansa. She hugged Johnny Cash's vinyl like it was the most precious thing she had in her life. He then decided to test the old record player, which he had taken for decoration only for the first time. He took the vinyl out of its cover and carefully placed it on the record player, positioning the needle so it could play.

The music echoed through the room, and soon Johnny Cash's thick voice filled Jon's ears. The original melody completed that of the music box that had not left his mind until then. He then headed for the kitchen, where he picked up a forgotten whiskey bottle in the corner. He returned to the living room and sat on the couch, taking a sip of the drink straight from the bottle, which fell uncomfortably down his throat.

  
It had all matched the image of Sansa smiling, moving, being happy. And the tears he managed to hold all day were finally released, in the cathartic form he needed to release all that pain and uncomfortable mixed feelings. The memories of the last fight with Sansa seemed extremely vivid. The high-pitched voice that called out to you "You were mine until yesterday, and today I don't know who you are anymore" had never made as much sense as now. Who would have thought he would be so cold then, and now he would be so sorry and so heavy on his shoulders? He felt really lost.

  
"You are my sunshine ... my only sunshine," he whispered the lyrics along with his interpreter, letting the tears wash down his face without regret.


End file.
